


Foster Fail

by Rainwater_Apothecary



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hehehe, M/M, domestic life, the boys get a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:30:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainwater_Apothecary/pseuds/Rainwater_Apothecary
Summary: Jesse and Hanzo procure an aging shiba-inu and they all sort out sleeping arrangements.





	Foster Fail

**Author's Note:**

> All the nicknames are some take on Piplup/its evolutions. 
> 
> Listen im here for retired husbands, hi

"Pottaishi-kun..."

"Pip come on, it's well past midnight." Jesse McCree bundled the couple's rescue Shiba Inu into his arms and carried her into their room. They'd tried to be firm with the old girl but it just wasn't working. They were all too old to function outside of a soft touch anyway. And her crooning was enough to break a man's heart.

Rolling around and shedding gleefully like a pup half her age, the dog made herself at home in the big bed. Hanzo rolled his eyes affectionately and leaned down slightly to speak with the dog.

"Okay Potchama-san. Now will you settle down?" He quirked an eyebrow at the old girl who just smiled at him. Her breath was awful. To the vet tomorrow, his tired eyes told his husband. The retired marksman just smiled and shook his head. 

"Alright my spring chickens, everybody in bed." 

"Spring...chickens?"

"Don't you worry yourself none, sweet thang." He kissed his archer's forhead and settled down into his side of the bed. "Just means young n spry. Y'know, like when chicks hatch in the spring." 

The preturbed pucker between Hanzo's eyebrows smoothed out as he understood the saying. He nodded slightly to himself as he tidied the new vocabulary into some inner filing cabinet and laced their fingers together.

The three of them moved slowly around one another, the humans not wanting to spook their traumatized 'foster failure' and their Piplup not being able to move any faster between her arthritis and the soft bedding.

Eventually she settled for curling between their chests and resting her drooling muzzle atop her American father's not insubstantial pectorals. Hanzo would have to work on peace talks about that pec. _He_ liked sleeping with _his_ chin there.

But as the three of them fell to sleeping (and snoring, despite what the ninja said), and the rain began falling outside their little mountain cabin, the stress of a day spent over paperwork, potty training, and the hunted look all three could recognize in the dog's eyes melted away like the last fingers of the spring's snow.

Looks like they were all spring chickens now, Hanzo would have to remark when he got the time.


End file.
